


Floodgates

by ThePiesEndure



Category: Pierre Bouvier - Fandom, Simple Plan
Genre: F/M, fan fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 05:29:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20483645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePiesEndure/pseuds/ThePiesEndure
Summary: I just need to feel normal





	1. “Please.”

“I need you to fuck me right now.”

“What?”

“Pierre, I need you to fuck. Me. Right now. Right now, dammit.” I yank at my shirt as I stumble toward the bed. Pierre just stands there, watching me beneath hooded eyelids.

“You gotta be shitting me, babe.”

I turn to him, eyes wide. “Please.”

He shakes his head holding up his hands. I storm up to him, grasping at the front of his shirt, tugging at the buttons.

“Please. I need…”

His brow furrows, eyes darkening as he meets my gaze. “You need?”

I swallow hard, averting my eyes a little. “Just this once.”

He stares at me, eyes boring into mine. “Are you sure?’

I tremble, still pulling at his shirt. “Yes. Pierre. I’m sure.”

He shuts his eyes for a moment. He opens them again and they’re darker than before. “I love you.”

I quiver. “I know.” A whisper.

He nods then tugs his own shirt off, before pushing me back to the bed. No finesse. No gentleness. All rough edges and sweaty skin. I groan as he pulls my pants off, and nudges my legs apart, resting his body there. Still in his jeans. The rough material presses against my exposed labia. I moan. He growls low, before nuzzling his face into my neck.

I arch up against his body. So ready for whatever the heck this is. He grinds against me hard, the friction causing me to heat up.

“Pierre…” A breath.

“This okay?” His right hand is on my breast, his left on my hip, fingers tracing circles there.

I nod against his head. “I just….need to feel.” I need to feel normal….

Pierre lifts his head from my neck to look at me. I blink up at him before sliding a hand around to the back of his head, running my fingers through his hair. Then I pull him back down and press my lips against his, licking slowly into his mouth. The groan he gives sets me on fire and I rub up against him.

He grunts, pulling back a little. “Hold on…gotta get this off…”

I prop myself up, watching as he makes short work of his jeans. I admire the muscle in his arms, his chest, the deep concentration on his face. And, my heart skips a beat. If you could call a man beautiful…

Pierre meets my gaze and smirks before settling over me again. His weight on top of mine…I’ve missed this. I’ve missed him. I need this so so much.

Pierre growls as he rubs his length against me. “This, babe?’

I groan in frustration, reaching down between us, curling my fingers around his cock. He grunts. Shock flaring in his eyes before he rocks into my hold. I stroke him firmly, whilst spreading myself more for him.

He is watching me as I watch him. I stroke two fingers over my clit; I’m already so stimulated that it doesn’t take much for me to be ready. It really doesn’t. I was wet before he even touched me, to be honest. His eyes have darkened considerably, with his own need. I press up to him and he groans as I guide him into me.

I moan as his cock stretches my pussy, feeling full. I wrap myself around him as he pushes into me. Locked together in an all too intimate embrace. He’s deep within me and I just hold onto that feeling. Burying my face into his neck, I inhale…before exhaling roughly.

“Hey…?” His voice in my ear, tender, anxious.

I clench on him just as my breath hitches. Then, the floodgates open, and I’m lost. Pierre doesn’t move, not inside me that is. His arms come hard around me and he just waits for me. Calm and steady. My rock.

I sob into his chest, a broken sound. He continues to wait. Saint Pierre.

I shudder then clench on him. “Fuck me.”

And he does. Hard, strong, but there is tenderness too. And a rising heat. I roll my hips to his opening my eyes to meet his. He wipes my tears with a thumb as he bucks against my spot. I gasp out, feeling a wave of intense pleasure wash over me.

He smiles, a faint twitch of his lips and slowly runs a hand down between our bodies. He finds my clit just as my hand meets his. He presses it with his thumb and rolls it. I groan as my release washes over me, closing my eyes as I allow it to cleanse me.

He’s still moving, but I barely notice. Not even when he finishes inside me. I’m too loose, too lax to realise. But, it doesn’t matter. A weight is gone. Light fills me.

I come down from the moment, peering up at him. Up into Pierre’s face. His dear face.

“Thank you…”


	2. “I miss him.”

Early next morning, I wake, Pierre’s arm draped around my waist the sound of his snoring a comfort. But, I really really need to pee, so I carefully extract myself from his hold and tiptoe into the bathroom.

Several minutes later I head back into the bedroom to find a half awake Pierre sitting up in bed. He’s rubbing sleep from his eyes and his hair is a mess of dark scruff that falls a little into his eyes. He’s grown his hair out, because he knows I like it like that. Though he is able to change his hairstyle at a whim. The benefit of having…powers. If you can call them that. Shapeshifting or something like that. Because, you know, this is a fantasy after all.

“You okay?” His voice is still full of sleep, but the concern in it is palpable.

I swallow hard, still not sure how to answer that question. Yes, he did ask me that last night. Before we…well, before last night.

I shake my head and just stand taking in the sight of him in my bed. If I blink, he will disappear, I know that. Or, maybe I think that is the case. Pierre is my comfort blanket in a sense. A weird description of our relationship to be honest.

“Babe?”

I sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed, letting him scoot closer to me and take a hold of one of my hands. I don’t speak though. I can’t get the words out.

Pierre rubs a hand on my back. “We can stay in bed, if you want. Or I can make breakfast and then we can go for a walk?”

I murmur, “Breakfast sounds good.”

Pierre smiles and pushes the covers down, climbing out of bed. “Take your time.” He leans down and kisses the top of my head before heading for the door.

The sound of his feet on the vinyl as he makes his way to the kitchen bench and the fridge is clear to me. My apartment isn’t that big after all. I stretch, yawning before getting out of the warmth of the bed and wrapping myself up in my dressing gown.

I turn to look at the dent in the mattress where our bodies were and frown a little thinking of the past.

Our relationship is not one to write home to mummy about. Pierre isn’t always the nicest person and I’m not innocent either. I let him walk all over me and do things no woman should ever let a man do to them. But, we’re drawn to each other like a moth to a flame. That’s no excuse, not really. But, I love him. And in the season I’m in at the moment, he’s my one constant.

Grief makes you do stupid things sometimes and sleeping with Pierre last night definitely qualifies as one of those stupid things. As good as it felt. It should never have happened.

I mean…losing my husband is no excuse for jumping in bed with my previous fling, his brother. Right?

“Babe?”

“Coming.” I step into the living/kitchen area and the aroma of bacon and eggs makes my mouth water. “Mmmm, bacon.”

Pierre chuckles, shooting me a teasing look. “You know I can read your mind.”

I shake my head at him. “Well, don’t. It’s rude.”

“You were thinking about EP.”

I roll my eyes at him before plopping down on a bean bag in front of the television. “EP’s dead. No point in me thinking about him.”

Pierre frowns turning his full attention on me. “Way to be blunt, babe.”

I look back at him. “The bacon’s burning.”

“You’re in denial.”

“I’m not. I can smell the bacon burning.”

“I’m not talking about the bacon.”

I take a deep breath then exhale roughly. “I don’t want to talk about EP. Not after last night.”

“You don’t have to feel guilty about what we did.”

I tremble, looking away from him. Pierre knows me too well in this regard. Then again he was there through my marriage to EP, and if I’m telling you Pierre isn’t good for me…well. EP was a lot worse. But, love is a funny thing and does not discriminate. Let me just say this…don’t ever marry a Bouvier, if you can help it. I know it sounds hypocritical for me to say that I wouldn’t change it for myself. But, I know Pierre. I know EP. And they know me…

“I miss him, Pierre.” That’s what this feeling is. I have to admit it, to myself, to him. “I can’t get past it.”

Pierre moves back to the stove, turning the burners off before coming over to pull me up into his arms. “I miss the bastard, too.”

I frown a little. “But, you…”

“Did what I had to do, little one.” He presses a finger to my lips. “And, you forgave him, and me. Remember?”

I close my eyes, but tilt my head toward him in response. “Yes. I remember.”

“Good. So, how d’you want your eggs?”

I smile, opening my eyes again. “Scrambled. Just like my state of mind right now.”

Pierre rolls his eyes. “Touché.” He releases me and goes back to the stove.

I watch as he turns the flame back on and expertly cracks an egg into a bowl while turning the bacon with the tongs in his other hand. Then he grabs the whisk and, holding the bowl in a firm grasp, quickly whips the egg into a frothy mix. I admire the muscles in his arm as he works, the concentration on his face. He places the bowl into the microwave then turns to look at me.

“You want to talk about it?”

“The eggs?”

“No. EP.” His mouth is set in a hard line, as if hearing about his brother is not what he wants to be doing right now. Even though he is the one who pointed out I was thinking about him.

I drag my fingers through my hair, catching them on several knots and wincing. “I shouldn’t have married him.” I bite my bottom lip, tugging at it. “You were the one I loved.” I blink, slow. “You’ve _always_ been the one, Pierre.”

Pierre grimaces as the microwave dings. He turns to deal with the eggs before plating up the bacon and bringing the food to the table. “You don’t really mean that.”

I blink at the bitterness in his voice. “I do. He wasn’t right for me.”

Pierre glares at me, his eyes dark; there is hurt in them. “You chose him, fair and square, babe. He didn’t trick you into falling for him. You were the one person he could never deceive.” He squeezes the fork in his hand, stabbing at his bacon. “And, you have to know this…but, I never begrudged him that, ever.” The earnestness in his gaze is unsettling.

“No?”

“Never. EP deserved happiness. You gave him that. That and your love. Don’t deny him that.”

I flush and look down at my eggs, a crush of yellow smeared across the bowl. “I miss him.” And we’re back to that again. “We can’t…do last night. Not again.” I meet Pierre’s eyes over the food. “Not…” I can’t finish the sentence and just hold his gaze.

Pierre chews his bacon. Then he nods. “Finish your eggs.”

“Then what?” Belligerent.

He looks at me, face impassive. “I need to show you something.”

A frisson of...something. “What?”

He shakes his head and points his knife at my plate. “Eat, babe.”

So. I eat.


	3. “Forgive me?”

I stand staring down at the plaque on the grave. "What are you saying, Pierre?"

He shakes his head. "I didn't really..."

I look at him. "Didn't really?"

Pierre meets my gaze, brow furrowing. I can tell that something is troubling him, but I need to know. After all, he insisted we walk down to the cemetery where EP is buried. 

I shake my head. "I can't do this alone, Pierre. I can't...be without him."

"You're not alone though. I'm here."

"Yeah, right. You're here. We're both here." I wave my hand at EP's grave. "But, he's there...and now you're saying you didn't really? Didn't really what?"

Pierre exhales, a rough sound. "Just look at me."

I scowl. "I am looking at you." And I am, staring right into his eyes. They are a deep brown colour. No...wait...

Pierre's eyes deepen to a black so dark that it's as if the light had been swallowed into their depths. I take a step back from him, feeling an uncomfortable jolt as my heart starts to race.

"Pierre...what did you do?"

"It's not a choice I made lightly, babe."

I hold a hand up to him, recognising the slightly deeper and raspier tone of my husband. "EP?"

He holds both of his hands up in an almost defensive gesture. "We couldn't tell anyone. It's not like anyone would understand how two people could become one person."

I shake my head again, noticing that my hands are trembling. I tuck them beneath my armpits and curve into myself, avoiding his dark gaze.

"Pierre killed you."

EP shakes his head. "No. He just...reabsorbed me. I guess you could say."

"But...the funeral..." I swallow hard. "The viewing."

"Babe, you know what we're both capable of as far as illusions are concerned."

I rub at my face. "Don't. Don't do this. I don't want this." My breath catches in my throat and comes out in a sob. "You hurt me...Pierre was meant to fix things."

EP blinks. "You wanted rid of me?"

I sniffle, wiping at my nose. "No. No. It's not like that. I loved you."

"But, you wanted Pierre to get rid of me." His tone is glacial. And part of me wants to refute his accusation strongly. But, another knows that as much as I miss him...it was the way things needed to end.

But, curse my heart, hey? "Love doesn't discriminate."

"No? Speaking of which. What was all that crap about Pierre being it for you?"

And now comes the jealous side of EP. I sigh, pegging him with a look. "He was the only one who was truly right for me and even you have to admit that."

EP scoffs. "He _is_ me."

I press my hands to my face and shake my head. "Please don't say that."

"You married me."

"I know..."

"And you didn't regret it at the time."

"I _know_."

EP glowers at me. "So, what changed?"

I drop my gaze, chewing on my bottom lip. "Your possessiveness became too much. I needed more freedom." I glance at him. "You got too jealous about my other male friendships, even though we both knew there was nothing going on there. Because you _knew_ the only other person I would've shown any major interest in was Pierre."

EP crosses his arms over his chest, looking away from me for a moment. I can tell what I just said upset him.

"EP..."

He shakes his head and returns his gaze back to mine. "I was afraid of losing you. You know? I was always thinking about how much those other guys deserved you more than me."

I open my mouth, but he steps close and reaches out to press a finger to my lips. "Let me finish, please?"

I nod.

"They treated you better than I ever did, and I will admit that freely. But, I didn't know how else to act toward you. The darkness inside of me..." He pauses and strokes his finger over my top lip. "I couldn't stop myself..." His lips twitch a little. "That sounds horrible, right?"

I lean into him. "You agree with me that Pierre did the right thing..."

EP wraps an arm around my waist, the motion hesitant. I lean more into him. He sighs.

"Yes. I do. It was the wake up call I needed." He squeezes me gently but then releases his hold and steps away from me again. "But, I'm under no illusion that you would accept me back in your life permanently. So...this was the solution Pierre came up with."

I tilt my head at him. "Sharing the one body again?"

EP nods then blinks slowly; right before my eyes I watch as the colour of his irises shifts back to a softer, lighter chocolate brown colour.

"Pierre?"

He gives a sad smile. "Forgive me?"

I stare at him then throw myself into his arms and hug him hard around the neck. No words needed.


End file.
